


the other side of the war

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: AKA the one where everyone is reunited and happy and Rassilon can go die, Audio 115c: Casualties of War (Doctor Who), Audio: Gallifrey: Time War 4, Character Study, Dialogue Light, Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, Everyone Is Alive, Friendship, Happy Ending, Love, Mentioned The Doctor (Doctor Who), Mentioned Twelfth Doctor, Post-Audio: Gallifrey: Time War 4, Reunions, the one we DESERVE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: Leela returns to fight for Gallifrey after being lost to the Time War.Narvin discovers that the friends he'd thought were long gone are still alive.And finally, the sudden deposition of Rassilon gives three old friends the first chance to see each other in a very, very long time.
Relationships: Leela & Narvin & Romana, Leela & Narvin (Doctor Who), Leela & Romana II, Narvin & Romana II
Comments: 17
Kudos: 13





	1. Prelude: How to lose your mind

**Author's Note:**

> So. Time War 4 destroyed me. But, the way that they left Leela, Narvin, and Romana seemed like prime fic material to me, so here I am, trying to tell myself everything is okay by having everyone reunite and live happily ever after the end. (There's more to the fic than that I promise 😅) Anyway, enjoy, and I hope this at least helps soothe your soul just a little bit
> 
> P.S. There will be some references to Leela's part in Casualties of War at the beginning, but everything is explained so you'll be able to follow this even if you haven't heard it :)

When Leela remembered who she was, it was both a blessing and a curse.

She had lived for so long with multiple lives and timelines battling for dominance in her head that the quiet in her mind was nearly unsettling. Remembering things for certain felt like an entirely new experience—a painful one. Because while she now remembered the Doctor and K-9 and all of her loved ones on Gallifrey, she also recalled the things that had happened later. Andred’s betrayal. Going blind. The Daleks invading. The war, the Master, her son who never was, Rayo, Veega, Eris, Rassilon…

Narvin so dearly calling her _savage_ the last time she’d ever seen him.

The fear in Romana’s eyes and her voice crying out Leela’s name as she was dragged into her own personal prison.

Leela soon realised with horror that _this_ was her true life, full of love and loss. The sheer reality of it overwhelmed her instantly, but it was only much later, in the confines of her new private quarters, that she wept all over again for every tragedy she’d ever experienced. Each terrible moment that passed through her mind seemed to chisel away a piece of her heart until finally, in the early hours of a stormy morning, she had no tears left to give and no heart left to break.

That day, as Leela tried to reconcile the cold and unfeeling place around her as the Gallifrey that was once her home, she was ushered straight into a council of war with a handful of captains and commanders.

The fact that none of the faces was familiar was unsettling.

But as the newly regenerated General droned on about tactics and ignored Leela like she was invisible, it suddenly struck Leela that she was being thrown right back into her old life before the Disruptor Dalek. The life that was full of nothing but war and screams and pain and…

 _Romana._ She remembered how her name had been like a prayer to get her through the worst days when the shrieking screams of Daleks filled her head and her bones were so weary that she felt she wouldn’t be able to move anymore. If this had been a normal war, she would have been glad to fight, but the Time War was anything but normal. It was cowardly. It was full of meaningless slaughter. It was bereft of honour. It was a battle that everyone would lose.

As weeks passed, it didn’t take long for Leela to once again get lost in the hopelessness of the war that would never end. Sometimes she wondered if she’d be fighting forever with Rassilon reigning eternal, the Daleks lurking close by, and Romana always just out of reach. 

But just like so long ago when Leela had been so sure that she’d follow Andred to the grave, she reminded herself that she still had something to live for on Gallifrey.

Because no matter how long it took, even if she fought until the end of time itself, Leela would see Romana freed.


	2. Cold World

The still night wrapped around Leela like a vice that was much too tight. Silence pressed in on her ears and she longed for chirping bugs or whispering wind, or even K-9 playing soft sounds of nature as she slept.

Leela almost smiled as she thought of K-9. She wished he was there; he’d know exactly how to cheer her up.

She wished she had _anyone_ there.

Leela rolled over, silently cursing the overly plush bed beneath her. If it wouldn’t cause her joints to be sore, she’d be sleeping on the floor. She’d forgotten how much she loathed the stark and too comfortable quarters of the time lords. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly for years out in the Obsidian Nebula, but even now that her head was put in order again, she still found herself unable to sleep for the cold world around her.

Sometime in the small hours of the night, Leela finally drifted off thinking about the Doctor— _her_ Doctor—and replaying those old, old adventures in her head. The sound of the TARDIS echoed all around her…

Leela awoke with a start. She could still hear the TARDIS, its engines sounding more strained than usual as if it were in pain. Her breath caught in her throat as she jumped to her feet. The faint outline of a TARDIS began to materialise in front of her—not the blue police box she’d been dreaming of, but one of the boring looking ones they kept in the TARDIS Bays…and yet, Leela knew very well that TARDISes couldn’t just materialise anywhere in the Capitol. She grabbed her knife and held it at the ready as the TARDIS slowly became more and more solid. Finally, with one last weary wheeze, the time and space machine fully appeared.

The door almost instantly slid open and a man rushed out of the TARDIS, though as he saw Leela, he halted abruptly as if he’d run into an invisible wall. His mouth dropped open as he stared at her in stunned silence.

It was a face she’d know anywhere. Leela breathed out a shuddering sigh, tears suddenly flooding her eyes. A million questions ran through her head but only one name could pass through her lips: “Narvin?”

He licked his lips and finally closed his mouth, though his eyes never left hers. “It’s true,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t believe it, you’re really…”

“Narvin!” Leela leapt on him in a hug, forcing him to stumble back into the TARDIS door. Yet, as soon as he righted himself, he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“Oh, Leela,” he said with a tremble in his voice. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Me?” She held him impossibly closer, never wanting to let go of him again and still hardly believing he was real. “All that time ago, when the Dalek ship exploded—”

“Ah, yes.” Narvin gently extricated herself from her hold and Leela could finally get a good look at him. He was different—older. She’d known that Narvin had spent many long years in the same body, but now he actually looked it. There were creases around his eyes and light wrinkles lining his face. His dark hair faded to grey at his temples, but somehow it suited him. Leela thought of teasing him about it before she remembered that she had aged, too.

“It was Eris,” he began to explain. He cleared his throat and tried to unobtrusively wipe a tear from his eye. “He got me out at the last moment. I’ve been with the Resistance ever since, doing what I can to help end the war.” He held her only a step away, his fingers gently compressing her arms like he was reminding himself that she was there. “I tried to get word to you, but by the time I figured out how, I heard that you were…” He swallowed. “What happened to you?”

“I lead a great battle,” Leela said quietly, remembering it all too well. “I was hit by a new type of Dalek—a _Disruptor,_ they called it.”

Narvin’s lips settled into a grim frown and his grip on her tightened.

“Everyone thought I was killed. I lived on, only…” She frowned, realising that she hadn’t really had to explain it yet, as no one on Gallifrey had cared enough about her to ask. “It… _displaced_ me in time. My memories were muddled. I could remember every road I had not taken, every path that I might have walked. I did not know which memories were real and which had never happened.” She looked down. A shudder passed through her as she considered how long she had forgotten her friends—how long she had forgotten _Narvin_. “I did not know who I was.”

“That must have been terrible.” Leela met his gaze and saw compassion soften his eyes. He looked like he was about to speak again, but then a voice came from a communicator at his wrist.

 _“Narvin, they’ve found you! Do you have Leela? I have to open the barrier to get you out_ now.”

“Eris?” Leela asked, recognising the voice.

Narvin drew in a sharp breath and grabbed Leela’s hand, tugging her toward the TARDIS. “It took weeks for us to figure out a way I could land here, and apparently it wasn’t foolproof. We have to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“The Resistance base. I’m taking you there.”

Leela stood her ground and stepped back, leaving Narvin’s hand empty and reaching out towards her. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as her heart longed to follow him. “I cannot leave, Narvin.”

He turned to face her slowly, confusion spreading across his features. “You don’t want to stay here, do you? You remember what it was like, and it’s only gotten worse. Rassilon is—”

“I did not say I wanted to, but I must. If I do not fight for Gallifrey, Rassilon will hurt Romana.”

 _“Romana?”_ Narvin’s shock returned as he stared at her in wonder. “She’s alive, too? I’ve been searching, but it’s like she’s disappeared. No one knows what happened to her.”

“I do. I was there.” It pained her to think of that moment, how everything had happened so quickly, how there had been nothing they could do. “Rassilon trapped her in a…pocket dimension. He said that she shall archive the past for eternity, but he threatened to kill her unless I fight for Gallifrey.”

Narvin breathed out a long sigh. He was silent for a moment, studying the ground. Finally, he looked up at her again and shook his head. “We have to get her out. We have to—”

Eris’ voice crackled through the communicator again: _“Narvin!”_

Narvin didn’t move an inch. Pure torture filled his eyes.

“You must go, Narvin,” Leela said. “You cannot stay here; they will kill you.”

He pressed his lips together. “But—” He huffed and clenched his hands into fists. “There has to be another way.”

Leela stepped forward and took his hands in hers. Narvin’s fingers relaxed in her grasp. “We will see each other again when the war is over,” Leela said, trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing him.

A broken chuckle passed through his lips. “If the war is ever over.”

Leela nearly winced as he echoed her very thoughts. “Everything ends,” she insisted. “Even this will pass. Until then, we will both keep fighting.”

_“Narvin, if you don’t move now, I can’t help you. You’ll be trapped there.”_

“Go, Narvin. Now!” She squeezed his hands and then let him go. Narvin gave her a brief determined nod and opened the door of the TARDIS. He paused and turned halfway to meet her eyes one last time.

“Goodbye, Leela.”

Leela swallowed past a lump in her throat, feeling tears sting her eyes again. “I will see you soon, Narvin.”

And with one final look, Narvin turned and ran into the console room. A moment later the TARDIS was in motion, and there was a strange sound as another set of TARDIS engines overlapped with Narvin’s. Leela quickly turned and jumped back onto her bed, rumpling her hair to make it look like she’d been asleep. A TARDIS appeared right next to where Narvin’s had been and two stony-faced time lord guards stepped out with stasers at the ready.

“What are you doing in my quarters?” Leela asked, injecting as much indignation in her voice as she could. “You have no right to be here.”

The guards didn’t seem to be fazed. “There was an unauthorised TARDIS materialisation in these quarters,” one of them said.

“There has been no TARDIS here but yours.” She lay back down and wrapped her blanket around her. “You will leave.”

The other guard’s voice was softer, more sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Lady Leela, but we’ll have to search your quarters. An unauthorised landing is a serious safety breach.”

Leela sat up and set her most piercing look on the guards.

The nicer guard looked apologetic. “Are you sure there was no one here? You didn’t even hear anything?”

Leela recalled Narvin’s face, reminding herself it had been real, it hadn’t been a dream, he was _alive_ and though they were apart for now, her soul was singing and she felt real hope for the first time in so long—

“No,” she said softly. “There was no one here.”


	3. Prelude: How to win a Time War

When the Resistance found out that the Daleks invaded Gallifrey, Narvin knew he should have been first and foremost concerned about his home planet.

Rather, he was concerned first and foremost for Leela and Romana.

All he could do was hang onto the shred of hope that they were still alive as the Resistance immediately sprung into action. An emergency meeting was called. A brief debate was held. A vote was taken. And it was decided that the Resistance would take the fight to the Daleks. 

This was the final stand.

Eris asked Narvin to stay at the base with him and give orders to the soldiers that were currently preparing their ships. It wasn’t a choice for Narvin; he declined in an instant.

There was a moment of silence between them and a look that spoke volumes. They both knew very well that the likelihood of any of the soldiers coming back was slim to none—but the possibility of the Daleks conquering Gallifrey and becoming the guardians of time was unthinkable.

Yet, Narvin knew he had to go. He had to figure out a way to save Leela and Romana, even if it killed him. And some small part of him knew that if this really was the end of Gallifrey, he had to be there. It was, ultimately, where he truly belonged.

He said a brief goodbye before running off to his TARDIS, the same one that he and Romana had been sent off in as exiles all that time ago. It had been fitted out with offensive capabilities, though Narvin had never used them. His stomach felt like it was tied in knots as he set the coordinates with shaking fingers. Somehow, he knew that this was it. After all he’d been through, this would be the end.

Finally, the engines started up. Landing directly on Gallifrey would be suicide, so he’d programmed the TARDIS to arrive just outside of it, intent on assessing the best place where he might be able to slip in. Maybe this close, he could even hail someone on Gallifrey and figure out where—

Narvin’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt as his TARDIS shuddered like it had been hit. He activated the scanner, his hands hovering over the controls as he prepared to move out of harm’s way.

But as he stared at the image before him, he found himself completely frozen.

Gallifrey, burning. Gallifrey, surrounded so thickly by Daleks that he could hardly see the surface of the planet. Gallifrey, being riddled by never-ending laser fire.

His hearts dropped to the floor. This was his _home,_ the place he had fought so hard and so long for, being entirely obliterated bit by bit. All at once, he knew his mission was futile. No one would survive this. Not even him.

This was the end.

And then, as Narvin watched, everything disappeared in an instant.

The shockwave of a massive explosion boomed in time with the cloister bell as Narvin was sent tumbling onto his back. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, staring breathlessly at the scanner and wondering what he’d just seen.

He watched as pieces of Dalek ships hit against the TARDIS shielding. Gallifrey was gone. Not a single Dalek ship was left whole. His mind couldn’t make sense of it. Gallifrey hadn’t been destroyed—there was no debris from the planet. And the Daleks…

His limbs trembled. Almost without realising it, he stumbled back into the wall, breathing hard. When his legs wouldn’t support him anymore, he slid down to the floor.

He stared at his hands, trying to understand what was happening.

The war was finally over.

But Leela and Romana were gone.


	4. Is This Home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I just moved, and also I'm getting married in less than 2 weeks XD That being said, I'm going to try to finish the fic before then! Thanks for sticking with me :)

_2 (relative) years later_

It was a cold day when the Resistance officially disbanded.

As Narvin packed his meagre belongings from over the past several years (or was it decades?), he paused to look out the wide window in his room, now frosted over with ice. Still, he could make out the glow of various thrusters as ship after ship rose into the air, all zooming straight for the atmosphere. A strange pang of melancholy pinched in his chest. Though the Resistance hadn’t been nearly as much of a home as Gallifrey, it had been the only place he’d had to return to. Now, even that was ending.

A lump lodged itself in Narvin’s throat. He didn’t belong anywhere anymore.

The door behind him opened with an irritating squeak he’d never gotten around to fixing. Narvin cleared his throat and turned to face Eris, who was trying to smile—but in his eyes, Narvin could see the same kind of loneliness he was feeling.

“Came to see if you’d made up your mind yet.” Eris stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. His gaze drifted past Narvin and he walked up to the window, seemingly transfixed by the same sight Narvin had been. “Weird day, isn’t it?” he murmured.

“It’s a good thing,” Narvin said, standing beside him. “That’s the whole reason the Resistance was created: so that one day, it would have no more purpose.”

Eris nodded. “Yeah. Guess you never really think about that when you get started, do you?” He breathed an airy chuckle. “To be honest, I never thought I’d make it this far.”

“Neither did I.” Narvin had spent his life running from the possibility of death until it had seemed like all he could do was get caught up in it. When he’d lost his regenerations, he’d thought that the end would come around the corner. And yet, here he was, centuries later, still alive.

They’d always called him a survivor.

“So.” Eris cast a sidelong look at him. “Have you thought about it?”

Narvin remembered the hope in Eris’ eyes when he’d talked about being invited to live on the Terenov homeworld—and Eris had informed Narvin that the invitation extended to him, too. Completely stunned by the thought of calling a new planet his permanent home, Narvin hadn’t even been able to speak as Eris had described the planet, full of both rustic charm and bustling city life depending on where you landed.

Somehow, deep down, Narvin knew he’d never find a home anywhere else. Not without Gallifrey. Not without Leela and Romana.

And besides, his work wasn’t finished yet.

“Yes, I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.” Narvin swallowed, averting his gaze so he couldn’t see Eris’ reflection in the glass. “I’m not coming with you, Eris. I’m sorry.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air. When Eris didn’t reply, he continued, “If there’s even a chance that Gallifrey is still out there—”

Eris huffed and turned to face him. “When will you just accept that Gallifrey is _gone?”_

Narvin flinched but stared resolutely out the window. He wouldn’t let the doubts creep in. He _couldn’t._ So instead he focused on the falling snow outside, letting it fill his mind so he couldn’t think of anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Eris said, softer. “That was…harsh. Look, I know how you feel. Gallifrey, the Resistance—they’re all I’ve ever known. Even for me, change is hard. I know it’s got to be even harder for you, old man,” he said with an attempt at a laugh, lightly punching Narvin’s arm. “But you have to face reality.”

Narvin turned towards him only a fraction. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. You’ve seen the data I’ve collected, the witnesses I’ve interviewed. All the evidence seems to suggest that Gallifrey wasn’t destroyed, it was—“

“— _displaced,_ yeah you’ve told me before. And I still think you’re crazy.” His lips twitched into a half-smile. “But I know I wouldn’t be able to stop you, even if I tried. Just promise me that if the trail goes cold, you’ll at least think about settling down somewhere. You can’t keep searching forever, Narvin.”

 _Yes, I can,_ he told himself, but for Eris’ benefit, he tried to smile. “Of course I will.”

They said their goodbyes briefly. Eris told Narvin that they’d meet again one day—but somehow Narvin had a feeling that they wouldn’t. And as Eris walked out the door with a wave and one last smile, Narvin knew that he was well and truly alone.

It was difficult to leave. Every step away from the main base was harder to take, and it wasn’t just because of the snow that was steadily piling up around him. He wondered if this was all his life would ever be: finding new places to call home and then watching them slip from his fingers as he endlessly chased after Gallifrey. Maybe Eris was right. Maybe he _was_ crazy.

But regardless, he had to know.

Finally, Narvin reached the carrier hangar. His TARDIS—the very same TARDIS that he and Romana had been exiled in so long ago—was the last vehicle left. The hum inside the console room was something like a warm, welcoming embrace, and for a brief moment, Narvin thought that maybe the Doctor had the right idea in calling his TARDIS his home.

Narvin breathed a deep sigh as he looked at the scanner for one last glimpse of the world that had been the closest thing to home for many years. Instead, all he saw was a blank world of endless white as the snowfall grew heavier.

“Well,” Narvin muttered to himself, “no looking back.” He began punching in coordinates. Some of his best sources had led to Karn, and if anyone knew what had happened to Gallifrey, he suspected the Sisterhood did. He didn’t relish the thought of going there, especially alone, and he had a feeling it wasn’t the only unpleasant place he’d be travelling to in his search.

But in the end, if he was right, it would be worth it.

* * *

It took so many years of travelling between times and planets and galaxies that Narvin wasn’t quite sure what his “home time” was anymore. But after endless calculations and information gathering, he’d done it—well, he’d come as close as he could, anyway.

He finally had Gallifrey’s current coordinates, at the very end of the universe.

Narvin knew his TARDIS would resist the journey, so he had to enlist the help of a shady criminal to undo several of the safeguards. The man seemed genuinely concerned that Narvin was planning on flying the TARDIS afterwards.

“Y’know what this’ll do?” the man said, peering up at Narvin from beneath the console. “These TARDISes are fitted out with this stuff for a reason. If you try ’n take it somewhere it don’t want to go, there’ll be no coming back.”

Narvin swallowed. He’d gathered that that was a distinct possibility. “Don’t worry about me, just do your job.”

The man shrugged and ducked under the console again, muttering something that sounded like, “Your funeral, mate.”

The job took an entire day, and the man warned him one last time before leaving. Criminal perhaps, but at least he seemed to have a good heart. Narvin paid him the promised amount and told him that he’d be careful.

The fear only set in when the man was gone and all that was left was the hum of the TARDIS. Was it just him, or did it sound a little different now?

“I’m sorry,” Narvin muttered to the console. “I had to. You wouldn’t take me there otherwise.” He scoffed at himself a moment later. “Look at me, talking to a TARDIS. Now I really am starting to sound like the Doctor.”

A short blip sounded from the console like the TARDIS was saying it understood…but of course, that would be ridiculous. It was just a coincidence.

“Well,” he sighed, “no more waiting. It’s finally time to see if I’m right.”

Narvin sprung into action, leaving himself no more time to think about what he was doing. He checked and rechecked his coordinates. He considered that he could also take a day or so to recheck all of his calculations and cross-references…

No. This was it. He’d done the best he could, and now it was time for the test. If he was right, he’d find Gallifrey—and hopefully Leela and Romana with it. If he was wrong…

He pressed his lips together. Well, he’d had a good, long life. Long, long ago, that wouldn’t have been enough for him. But now, to say that he’d made a difference…yes. It was worth it.

Narvin punched the final button, and the TARDIS engines started up.

Almost instantly, the cloister bell boomed. The console room shifted and Narvin soon found himself tossed around the console room like a load of laundry in a washing machine—not that he knew what a washing machine was, of course. He clung onto whatever he could, but inevitably everything shuddered so much that he had to let go. Forget being stranded in a broken TARDIS at the end of time—maybe he wouldn’t even make it there in one piece.

But then, all at once, everything stopped. The TARDIS was still, and the lights flickered off. Acrid smoke filled Narvin’s nostrils. He coughed, but still hardly dared to breathe. He got his bearings and rose to his feet. His whole body ached and he let out a long groan as he limped to the console and tried the scanner. It was offline. In fact, _everything_ was offline. He’d even have to crank open the door manually.

But what if the TARDIS hadn’t made it? What if it was floating in the middle of space and opening the door would suck out whatever oxygen he had left? The shields were no doubt offline too.

He supposed that he’d rather have a quick death anyway rather than slowly dying of oxygen starvation.

So Narvin cranked the door open, the effort making his breaths come shallower. Was that the oxygen slowly draining from the TARDIS? His hearts pumped faster. Surely, this was it. This was finally the end…

The door opened onto darkness.

And Narvin took a breath.

 _Oxygen._ Hope sprouted within him. Had he really done it?

He stepped out of the TARDIS cautiously. It took him only a moment to realise that he’d landed in a TARDIS Bay—no doubt his landing had been directed there. But his materialisation hadn’t been authorised, which meant there should have been guards surrounding him. Where were they?

Then he realised it didn’t matter. He was on _Gallifrey._

Triumph and hope nearly made him giddy for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. Then he reminded himself that he could very well feel a staser bolt in his back at any moment, so he closed the TARDIS door softly behind him. No opposition came as he rushed silently to the nearest door and found himself in a corridor. He stopped to think for a moment, studying his surroundings. It had been so long since he’d been to Gallifrey that everything had changed. He didn’t recognise this corridor at all, nor the ones that branched off from it.

“It looks like I’ll have to improvise,” he muttered to himself.

He set off to the right. Even if the way would have been familiar, he didn’t know where to go. He had to find out about Leela; but how? He could try and ask around, but there was no telling what his current standing was on Gallifrey. Was Rassilon still President? If not, who was? Would his name and face even be remembered anymore?

Narvin rubbed his temples. Only now was he realising that he’d never imagined he’d get this far. He slowed to a halt and once again tried to find something familiar that he could guide himself by. Could Gallifrey have really changed this much since he’d last been here?

Silence rang in his ears and a sudden fear seized him. What if he was too late? What if all the time lords had been destroyed or had somehow died out? He _was_ at the very end of time…

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through his frenzied horror and sent relief washing through him. However, relief quickly turned to panic as he once again wondered if he would be welcome on Gallifrey. After a moment’s deliberation, he concluded it would be safest to hide. Perhaps he could secretly follow whoever it was and get some answers.

Narvin quickly darted into an adjoining corridor and concealed himself behind a statue of Rassilon— _he probably is still President,_ he thought, knowing that Rassilon was certainly vain enough to put up likenesses of himself all over the Capitol.

The footsteps got closer. Narvin held his breath.

And then they stopped.

Narvin clenched his teeth, fear turning his insides upside down. They couldn’t have seen him. There was no possible way—

“You can come out now.”

Narvin’s mouth went dry. The gruff voice continued, “If you’re here to assassinate me or something, you’d better get on with it.”

 _Assassinate?_ But did that mean…?

Knowing it was no use hiding anymore, Narvin stepped out from his hiding place to face a tall, lanky man with a shock of curly grey hair. His clothes were shabby and strange, not a time lord’s clothes at all—but then, Narvin hadn’t been here in a long time. Who knew what Gallifreyan fashion was like nowadays? Maybe the Time War had changed things more than he’d thought.

Narvin held his hands up in innocence, showing that he was unarmed. “Forgive me,” Narvin said. “I, er…”

“Ah,” the man said with a slight nod. “I understand. I remember the first time I met the Lord President. It seems scary, but then you remember that he puts his pants on every morning the same way you do.”

 _Lord President?_ Narvin stared. This man looked nothing like a president, apart from an air of command he seemed to possess. And, on top of that, no Chancellery Guard was escorting him to wherever he was going. Was he simply insane? Surely this wasn’t Rassilon, or else he would have recognised Narvin. But then that meant…

“My-my lord…” Narvin swallowed. “I’m…new to the Capitol, still trying to find my way around. I didn’t want to be in your way.” He knew that his own clothes were also a far cry from what Gallifreyans had traditionally worn in his time, but maybe this man wouldn’t notice.

“Well, you’d better get back to whatever it is you’re doing. I have important, er…presidential things to do.” He began to turn, but Narvin steeled himself and went out on a limb.

“My lord, I’m supposed to report to Lady Leela and got lost on the way; if you could point me in the—”

The man spun around so fast that it belied his apparent age. “Leela?” he asked, his eyes widening.

Narvin had no idea what his reaction meant. Anger? Shock? Simple surprise? He nodded.

“I…haven’t seen her,” the man mumbled, his formidable eyebrows furrowing together. Suddenly, his gaze narrowed as he looked at Narvin. “Do I know you?”

Narvin’s breath caught. _Was_ this Rassilon after all?

But before Narvin could even think of how to respond to the stranger, the man shook his head. “I have to get to the Cloisters.” He spun and continued his walk at a brisk pace. “Don’t follow me!” he called back over his shoulder before turning a corner.

Narvin leaned back against the closest wall and let out a long, trembling breath. That had been close. _Too_ close—and now he was left with even more questions. He stared at where he’d last seen the President…

…and was suddenly struck with an idea. If the President had been heading down to the Cloisters, then…yes! If he went the other way, it should take him towards the main part of the Capitol. He turned and hurried his steps, eager to find out if he was right. Finally, after several minutes, he could hear voices in the distance. He secluded himself in an alcove near a main walkway, though he made sure that he was able to watch what was going on.

He soon realised that he may have been gone from Gallifrey for a long time, but one thing hadn’t changed: gossip.

It was obvious that something big was happening in the Capitol. As officials strolled past Narvin in tight groups, they whispered about a bloodless coup, about Rassilon, and about a man they didn’t seem to want to name. Narvin couldn’t quite piece together the whole story, and once his legs started going stiff, he determined to take a chance.

A solitary aide walked toward Narvin, her lips moving silently as she stared down at a datapad. Narvin eased himself out of the alcove and pretended like he’d been strolling down the corridor to intersect with the aide. She looked up just before she walked straight into him, indignation flashing in her eyes. Narvin quickly apologised and gave her the same story he’d given the Lord President, hoping she’d believe it just as easily.

“Newcomer?” She looked him over with clear disdain. “How…quaint. But someone must have sent you the wrong orders; the savage hasn’t lived in the Capitol in ages. I didn’t even know she was still alive.”

The words nearly made Narvin’s hearts stop. He was only able to utter a vague kind of thank you before stumbling back to his hiding spot.

_I didn’t even know she was still alive._

What if she wasn’t? If she hadn’t been here in that long, it was no use asking around for her—he’d just get the same answers.

Narvin ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a fistful. Everything was happening too quickly. Rassilon was supposedly gone, which meant that, hopefully, Romana could be freed—unless this new President wanted to keep her out of the way, too. If Leela really was gone, then he had to figure out how to save Romana on his own.

His hearts ached at the thought. He hadn’t come all this way for Leela to be gone.

And that thought marked the exact moment when everything went even more wrong.

A hand clamped over Narvin’s mouth and a strong grip drew him further back into the corridor. Narvin’s mind swam with the possibilities of who could be holding him as he lashed out against his unseen assailant. However, a sharp point against his back made him halt. In fact, everything within him just stopped.

_Time lords don’t use knives._

A voice spoke harshly in his ear. “Do not struggle, time lord, unless you wish to feel the sting of my blade. I mean you no harm, but I must keep my presence here a secret.”

Narvin nearly broke out into an even greater struggle at the sound of the voice, but he made himself lock his limbs because he knew she meant it.

 _“Leela!”_ he tried to yell, though his cry came out muffled through her hand. He hoped he could get her attention before she tried to do something rash. _“Leela, it’s me!”_

“Shush!” she hissed, taking him further away from the area of activity.

Narvin huffed and reached up to try and prise her hand away from his mouth. Almost instantly, the knife point left his back. He wondered if she’d finally noticed—

But then something struck his skull with great force, and everything went dark.

* * *

“Narvin?”

Narvin’s head throbbed. He let out a low moan and tried to find where he’d been hit, hissing as he came in contact with a tender spot above his neck. He tried to remember what had happened—someone dragging him back, and then…

He opened his eyes. Leela looked at him with a wide grin and Narvin wondered if he was dreaming; surely, this was too good to be true.

Then he felt the headache again, beating like a drum in his brain. So, not _all_ good, then.

“Narvin!”

Despite the pain, Narvin smiled. He’d missed her brilliant smile, that unrestrained excitement in her eyes. “You haven’t lost your touch, have you?”

Leela chuckled, though her eyes softened with compassion. “I am sorry. I did not know it was you.” Suddenly, she frowned. “How did you get here?”

“I could ask you the same question. I wasn’t even sure you were still alive—someone I spoke with said you haven’t been living in the Capitol for years.”

Her smile came back, though this one was more of a self-satisfied, wolfish grin. “That was what I wanted them to think. I have been here all the while, listening and watching. I knew that Rassilon’s time would come to an end. As soon as I heard that he had been… _de-posed,_ I started to carry out my plan.” She glanced over him. “Can you walk? We must go quickly to save Romana, while everyone is still in confusion.”

Narvin grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. The world spun for a moment and nausea boiled in his stomach. His headache throbbed with a vengeance. “You couldn’t have hit me a little more gently?” he muttered.

Leela stood beside him and grabbed his arm as if worried he would fall. “You should be glad I did not stab you,” she retorted, her lips twitching at the corners.

“Thank Gallifrey for small mercies.”

Leela snickered quietly and met his eyes. “I have missed you, Narvin.”

He let out a long sigh. Reality was really only just starting to settle in—he was on Gallifrey, he’d found Leela (or rather, she’d found him), and they were going to rescue Romana. There were still so many uncertainties, but now, for the first time in so long, he was finally starting to feel like he was home again.

“I’ve missed you too, Leela.” He shook his head, breathing out an airy laugh. “More than you can imagine.”

Tears pooled in Leela’s eyes, but before they could fall, a voice carried from nearby and Leela went rigid. She quickly dragged Narvin away from the sound, speaking in the softest of whispers.

“You did not tell me how you came to be here.”

“It’s a long story,” Narvin replied at the same volume, pushing back his pain to keep up with Leela as she quickly blazed a trail through the more deserted parts of the Capitol. “I’ll tell you later.” He was starting to recognise his surroundings now; they were getting closer to the presidential suite. “How do you know that this new President won’t have her guarded just as closely as Rassilon did?”

Leela huffed as if the notion were utterly ridiculous. “The Doctor has dismissed all of his guards besides the General; I do not think he even knows about Romana, or else—”

Narvin pulled her to a stop. “The _Doctor?”_

Leela blinked. “Yes! Surely you knew that he is the new President?”

Narvin replayed the encounter with the President in his mind. The strange clothing, the ability to immediately gain complete control of a situation, the complete disregard for presidential traditions…

“You did not know,” Leela said after a moment.

Narvin shook his head. “I only just arrived. But I ran into him; he was going to the Cloisters.” He sighed. “But why? What is he doing here? How—?”

Leela squeezed his arm. “I do not know why the Doctor is here, but Romana is more important now. Once she is safe, we will all find the Doctor.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” All the new information was still shuffling itself around inside of Narvin’s head. So that was why everything was so disorganised: the Doctor must have just overthrown Rassilon, and now he was going about dismissing people and causing chaos like he always did. Like Leela had said, it would be the perfect time to go after Romana and remain undetected.

“Come, Narvin. We are almost there.”

He followed after her mutely. Here he was, skulking through the Capitol with Leela as they went on their way to rescue Romana.

It was like he’d never left Gallifrey at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, I wrote [a review of Gallifrey: Time War 4](https://ejrobisonauthor.com/2021/02/11/gallifrey-time-war-4-the-end-of-an-era/) looking at it from a writing/storytelling perspective! I'd like to think that it's insightful and maybe slightly funny, but who knows, maybe it's just garbage. But you can check it out anyway! XD


	5. Prelude: How to live forever

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

She was the sole witness of the birth of Gallifrey. She was the sole keeper of the terrible truths that Rassilon and the other forefathers of the time lords had hidden for millennia. She was the sole comforter, albeit an invisible and silent one, when the Doctor was used, abused, and mistreated time and time again.

Seeing the horrible events of the past she’d never known about was bad enough—reliving her own history was worse.

There she was, becoming a companion to the Doctor and then leaving him all too soon.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

She watched herself long for home and return to Gallifrey, only to be appalled by the lack of progress and swiftly take up the office of Lord President.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

She was forced to go back to the darkest place in her life, those twenty years that she always tried so hard not to think about—the days when she was known only as Unit 117.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

Then came Pandora, her own face staring back at her with so much evil in her eyes. She could once again hear the voices in her head, the call to the darkness.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

Yet another Gallifrey tumbled to ruins at the feet of the Destroyer of Worlds.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

In such a short amount of time, she fell from one of the most renowned Presidents in all of Gallifrey’s history to an exile with the charge of _assassin_ hanging over her head.

_My name is Romanadvoratrelundar._

With every memory and every identity repeating itself over and over again, surrounding her and holding her tight, it became harder to remember who she was. Who she had been. Who she would be.

All the while, it became easier to tell herself that she was someone else. Because Romana was the one who had been so emotionless for a time that she hadn’t even believed in friendship. Romana was the one who had left Leela to mourn Andred and cry silent tears in a series of cold, endless nights. It was for the sake of Romana that the war was started, that Narvin gave up a new cycle of regenerations.

It was Romana who let Ace go on a dangerous mission with Braxiatel. It was Romana who had sent Leela off with the Master.

It was Romana who had allowed Rassilon to take control.

The past was so vast, like a never-ending ocean that stretched across the endless expanse of her own private dimension. It was simple to submerge her feet. It was even easier to be drowned.

It wasn’t long before she didn’t even remember why she was there. All she knew was that it was penance. All she knew was that she had to watch the past go by and organise it the best she could. And meanwhile, the names continued to engulf her.

_I am the Doctor’s companion. I am an exile. I am Lord High President of Gallifrey. I am Unit 117. I am Pandora. I am the Destroyer of Worlds._

_I am Romanadvoratrelundar._

One by one they all fell away until only one thing was left, a name picked from history that she knew described her better than any of the others.

_I am the Archivist, and I will live in the past for eternity._


End file.
